


One Step at a Time

by PippinTheRenegade



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, Oneshot, shortfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 01:17:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6353146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PippinTheRenegade/pseuds/PippinTheRenegade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre feels like he's dying every time he looks at Courfeyrac. It's like a good kind of dying, though, if there is such a thing. He's content to just live with the feeling, but his pining has gotten a little too obvious, and Grantaire has enough of that in his own life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Step at a Time

"You should talk to him."

Combeferre jumped a little, the elbow he had been leaning on thumping painfully against the table, and turned on Grantaire with a glare. "Talk to who exactly? Enjolras?" he asked curtly, gesturing toward the front of the room and defiantly keeping his eyes off the person he had been staring after all meeting.

Grantaire made this little snickering noise through his nose. "You know who I mean," he said, pressing the edge of his glass to his lips. "And you really should talk about it. You won't get anywhere with puppy dog eyes behind his back. Believe me, I've tried that one."

Combeferre rolled his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, fixing his glasses out of nervous habit. Was it really that obvious?

"Uh-huh. Then what did Apollo just say?"

Combeferre swallowed hard, his eyes darting across the room to Enjolras. The blond had stepped away from the podium and was now straightening a stack of papers and talking to Feuilly. "Concluded the meeting," he said at last, though he cursed the hesitant squeak in his voice.

Grantaire nodded, but he kept his smile. "Lucky guess," he chimed, leaning back until his chair bumped against the desk behind him. "I should have told you not to look. Anyway, I happen to know something that may help in your endeavor, unwilling as you may be to admit it to me."

An eyebrow raise was all the response he got, but it was enough to show interest. Good. "Bahorel and I are going to drag Enjolras out with us tonight. A little drink, a little dancing- it'll be good for him. His exams are coming up, so we're gonna make him blow off some steam before he gets stuck studying for hours on end. That does mean-" His smile spread into something wicked. "-Courfeyrac will have their apartment all to himself tonight."

Combeferre went stiff; his secret, if he could even call it that, was most definitely out. Grantaire simply laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, then raised his had to signal Bahorel. Bahorel motioned back, then grabbed Enjolras by the wrist and pulled him toward the door. The blond managed a flustered good-bye to Feuilly before he was forcibly removed from the conversation, and then all three were gone to whatever adventure Grantaire had planned.

"I didn't think he meant literally," Combeferre muttered, shaking his head. Laughter bubbled around the room, and one voice in particular rang out, high and clear, above the others. To him anyway.

He couldn't help it. Every time Courfeyrac spoke, Combeferre had to pay attention. When he moved, Combeferre studied the motions of his muscles under his skin with more attention than he ought. His voice was smooth, and his laugh was one of the most pleasant sounds Ferre had ever been permitted to hear. He noticed the way Courfeyrac's eyes and cheeks pinched in when he smiled just before a laugh, the way he tapped his fingers on the table when he wanted to say something, the way he was always humming something under his breath or repeating some stupid joke and making himself grin.

There was a certain level of unfairness to the whole thing.

He swallowed hard- nerves had turned his mouth into a desert, and he wasn't quite sure when he had actually decided to act on Grantaire's fool plan- and pushed off the desk. Which was going to hurt worse, the possibility of rejection or the idea of living without knowing a minute longer? Time to find out.

His feet carried him over the floorboards, and he ran his question over and over in his mind, and suddenly they were practically side-by-side. Courf was talking with Joly, but he gave a friendly nod when Combeferre approached.

"Courfeyrac, can I talk to you?" His heart pounded against his ribs, and the words sounded more anxious out of his mouth than they had in his head.

Courfeyrac gave him a look- curiosity and maybe something else- and nodded. Joly side-stepped. "Sure." He hopped up to sit on a desk, swinging his legs off the side. "What's up, Ferre?"

"Oh, nothing, I," Combeferre stammered, growing more and more frustrated with himself. "I was just wondering if, uh, if you wanted to watch a movie tonight? Grantaire kind of stole your roommate away, and we haven't exactly hung out just you and me in forever, so-"

"Are you asking me out?"

Combeferre made this awful sputtering noise. "Wh-What? No, I... uh..."

"Oh my god, you are!" Courfeyrac grinned, and Combeferre could feel his heart melting. Unfair. "You're never nervous, not with me." 

That was untrue; being near Courf made him incredibly nervous sometimes; he was usually just better at hiding it than this. Combeferre took a breath, tried to collect himself and ignore the blush he could feel on his skin. "If I was, what would you say?"

"Well..." Courfeyrac drew out the word, the grin still on his face. "First, I'd ask when the last time you watched Brother Bear is because I've been _dying_ to cry over Kenai again. Second, I'd be mad that I owe Grantaire money now. And third... I'd do this." His fingers wound into Ferre's collar and pulled him close, their lips brushing in a hesitant kiss. Combeferre sucked in a breath through his nose and pressed closer, reveling entirely in the moment. One arm found its way around Courf's back while the other supported them both against the desk. They held that pose, locked together, a moment longer, before parting hesitantly, both flushed and breathless.

Backed by a murmur of congratulations from around the room, Courfeyrac spoke up again. "How long have you wanted to do that?"

"A while."

"Still want that movie night?"

"Absolutely."

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are food for writers, you know, so let me know what you think!
> 
> Chit-chat and funtimes can be found over on my Tumblr, [theblazeofmemory](http://www.theblazeofmemory.tumblr.com).


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